


Ruin

by Totalspiffage



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Aromantic, Demiromantic, F/F, Mention of Past Abuse, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, aromantic Isabela, demiromantic hawke, non exclusive relationship, only one short-ish sex scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3837274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totalspiffage/pseuds/Totalspiffage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabela doesn't do relationships, but Hawke is special, and so is whatever it is that they have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of something I wrote one day to get out my headcanons of Isabela as aromantic (note that her marriage did not "make" her aromantic, but just scared her away from anything resembling a relationship), Hawke as demiromantic, and both of them in a stress-free entanglement with deep platonic loyalty to each other.
> 
> That's how I wrote it, at least, but feel free to read more or less into it if you desire! I'll be writing a more smutty one at some point, but I needed my feelings on them first.

“I’ll ruin you for anyone else,” he sneered in her ear. She’d learned to tune him out by now, the git. He’d already done his worst.

-

Years, and too many partners to count later, she laid in bed next to Marian Hawke. Hawke had one arm thrown lazily around her middle and her face completely buried into her pillow, her small snores muffled. She’d fallen asleep faster than they could get their clothes off. There was no sex happening tonight.

So why was she still here?

 _You’re fond on the girl_ , said a wicked voice in Isabela’s mind.

She was too tired to argue, and Hawke’s bed was comfortable. It lacked the usual scent of stale beer and sex that her bed in the Hanged Man had, but it was comfy and it smelled of Hawke. Why that should be comforting to her, she wasn’t quite sure.

But it did lull her to sleep.

-

She awoke to a mouth on her clit, her legs propped up on their shoulders. Hawke.

“Good morning,” Marian said, breaking away for a moment as Isabela’s eyes fluttered open. Isabela was soaked already, Hawke’s chin covered in her evident arousal.

The pirate’s hand dove into Hawke’s hair as she groaned in satisfaction as Hawke continued to pleasure her. Her tongue flicked around her bud and dipped lower, diving into her cunt eagerly. Hawke fucked her with her tongue, lapping up her juices and panting against her.

“Fuck,” Isabela cursed quietly, gripping Hawke’s short black locks tightly as her orgasm neared, “Keep doing that, I’m so fucking close,”

Hawke hummed and gripped her thighs tighter, sucking her clit hard and swirling her tongue around it as she did so. It was too much to take and Isabela cried out, pulling Hawke’s face against her as she came.

Eventually Hawke broke away, wiping her face off with a smirk. Isabela pulled Hawke to her mouth, kissing her soundly. She could taste herself on her lover’s lips and it was magnificent.

“What a glorious host, you are, sweet thing,” she said, breaking away.

“That was an apology for falling asleep before I could fuck you silly last night. I came on my blood this morning, so don’t worry about me,” Hawke said with a grin, breathless against Isabela.

Isabela kissed her for nearly an hour before they decided to go down for food.

-

Isabela hated that word. “Relationship”. Her only relationship had been a possessive, sex-obsessed nightmare who was convinced he could win her affection the more he abused her. She never thought she’d be happier than the day Zevran sunk his blade into his skull.

She knew it wasn’t always like that, logically. She’d chased a few afterwards, but they’d all ended before they’d even begun. She wasn’t young anymore. She was fast approaching middle-aged, and she knew it was pointless to chase something that would never happen. Or. That’s what she’d thought.

There was a something with Hawke. Hawke never put a word to it, and Isabela had run from labels her whole life, but there was a Thing between them, and they both knew it. No matter if Isabela took other partners, or Hawke did, or they both did together, there was something that brought them both back at the end.

There was no possessiveness, only kisses peppered with groans. No claiming, only marks that they both left blatantly on each other- a gentle reminder. They would hold hands sometimes, go shopping for ridiculous hats, sometimes boats, sometimes both, and end up in Hawke’s bed. Isabela sometimes came by after a tryst at the Rose, smelling of sex and alcohol and Hawke begged hoarsely for details as Isabela’s fingers were deep inside her. Hawke would surprise her in the Hanged Man with a lovely stranger already going at it while Isabela watched, or, more often, participated.

They slept apart rarely, and even so, Hawke was happy to let her have whatever space she needed.

It scared Isabela shitless.

-

“Hawke.”

“Hm?”

“Why don’t you go on dates with anyone, like, those men your mother’s always trying to get you to see?” Isabela’s voice was quiet, as though she couldn’t quite believe she was asking.

“They’re gits. Don’t wanna. You’re much nicer, and I’ve already got you,” Hawke murmured against her neck.

“What if I leave?”

“Are you leaving?” Hawke asked, propping her head up and looking at her curiously.

“No. I don’t think. Not yet.”

“Huh. Well, don’t have to worry yet, do I? Tell me if that changes,” Hawke resumed her position, head resting on Isabela’s shoulder, arm wrapped around her slim, muscular waist.

How was this so easy for her? Was this how a real… Thing worked?

“You don’t mind this?” she found herself saying.

Hawke propped her head up again, “What’s wrong, ‘Bela? You don’t ask questions. Something’s bothering you.”

“Well, most women are obsessed with finding their soulmate or whatever, and you’re just. Doing this. With me.” _I’m ruined, I’ll destroy you_ , a self-doubting part of Isabela’s conscience spoke out, and she frowned to herself.

Hawke looked confused, “Is there a problem? You know you can break this off at anytime, right? I won’t ask why.”

There it was. An exit. An opportunity. Half Isabela’s mind was out the door, on a boat, sailing away from this confused, fucked up city and never thinking of Marian Hawke’s beautiful tits ever again. But Hawke’s eyes were filled with care, worry, stupid things that Isabela didn’t want to name.

For once, she didn’t leave, “No. I don’t know. I’m not good at this.”

“I know. I’m fine with doing this until whenever. I like you, ‘Bela. I like being around you, and I enjoy your company, and maybe once I did want to sweep you off your feet or something, but it’s not what you deserve. It’s not what I’d want anyway.”

“Can you imagine me on a date?” Isabela chucked and Hawke’s responding giggle tickled her collarbone. Suddenly, Hawke sat up, gasping as though she’d had an epiphany.

“We _should_ go on a date. It would infuriate the nobles. Let’s do it.” Her grin was manic and Isabela broke out laughing.

“Alright, that sounds like fun I can manage.”

-

Years later, after the mess with Kirkwall and everything that followed, Isabela found herself in a cozy little hole-in-the-wall in a foreign port, cheating everyone at cards and hoping that Varric would let her know soon what was happening in the world. And, more importantly, when Hawke would be back from Weisshaupt to pick her up again. When she’d started to care was beyond her.

Hawke and she had a Thing. It wasn’t the usual kind of love, but she was sure it was something like it. She was sure if Hawke didn’t make it that she’d move on. Eventually. But she didn’t want that. She only wanted Hawke by her side, making ridiculous puns in bed, that laugh-moan that she coaxed out of her somehow every time.

It’d been too long since she’d felt Marian Hawke against her.

A raven appeared with a message, one day. Varric had written half a novel, and there was another note, one line long that was far more important.

_I’ll be there soon, promise. Hawke._

She caught herself grinning, breathing a sigh of relief she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. She wasn’t ruined. She was free, and Hawke would be free with her.


End file.
